Friends and More
by ZZ9PluralZAlpha
Summary: After the death of his godfather, Harry must learn to deal with his grief and his responsabilities. Unfortunately, this isn't all that easy, especially when he has to deal with his unrequited feelings for a certain redhead as well... A HarryGinny fic cov
1. Default Chapter

Friends and More

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. It's all JK's.

Chapter 1: Messages

It was seven o'clock in the evening, and the end of another beautiful day in Little Whinging. The sun was setting into banks of fiery orange cloud, the traffic noises were muted and low, and in one of the bedrooms of number four, Privet Drive, a fifteen year old boy sat at his desk, gazing out of the window, and enjoying the cool evening breeze that played across his face.

Harry Potter hadn't changed a great deal in the past five years, at least in appearance. True, he had shot up in height recently, almost without realising it, so that he now all but towered over all the Dursleys, and while he was still thin, the constant physical exertion of Quidditch practice and a generally strenuous life-style meant that he was wiry and very fit, almost athletic. His black hair, though, was just as uncontrollable as ever, growing in almost all directions indiscriminately, all but covering the lightning scar on his forehead and his vivid, deep green eyes beneath his glasses.

He frowned slightly and drummed his fingers across the blank parchment in front of him. The next day he would be free of the muggle world for another year, free of the Dursleys who, while terrified of upsetting him, could never in a million years understand him, or understand what he was going through. At that thought his eyes pricked, and he screwed them up furiously, determined not to break down. He had to accept the fact that Sirius was dead. Sirius, whom he had only known for two years, was gone.

The thought wrenched at him, but he took a deep, steadying breath and looked back at the parchment. His desk was cluttered with scrolls of the stuff, mostly homework that he had occupied himself with during the first weeks of the summer holidays, as well as quills, bottles of ink, books and one or two rather more strange things: his sneakoscope stood amidst the scrolls, glinting in the twilight and standing on its point.

Separated from the other scrolls was a blank but rather old piece of parchment: the Marauder's Map showed nothing at the moment, of course, since he wasn't at Hogwarts. A box of owl treats stood open at the back of the desk, and he tossed one to Hedwig, smiling fondly at her as she gulped it down. She would need her strength soon enough: he had a job for her. Or at least, he would do if he could actually manage to write this blasted letter.

He had been trying to write it ever since he had arrived back at Privet Drive. His first problem had been, who to write it to? What he really wanted was to share his thoughts with someone who would understand, but the only person who, he thought, would have understood, was Sirius. He thought about writing to one of his grown-up wizard friends, perhaps Professor Lupin or Tonks, but he knew from their regular checks on him over the past two weeks that they were extremely busy. The Order of the Phoenix was now recognised as the first line of defence against Voldemort and the Death Eaters by the whole of the wizarding community, ever since the events that had taken place in the Department of Mysteries, and Harry didn't want to add to their worries by telling them his problems.

There was always Ron and Hermione, but much as he trusted them and valued their advice, they didn't know what he was experiencing. The same applied to Ginny, although, now he thought of it, she had always seemed very understanding of his problems and had always tried to help him with them… memories came back to him of how, last year, he had been convinced that Voldemort had been possessing him, until she had told him what the experience was like, proving to him that he had not been taken over. Unlike at the last fight with Voldemort.

But the person who came to mind, more than any other, was someone he had only known for a year, someone he didn't know at all, really, but whose words, after the terrible events that had led up to Sirius' death, had meant such a lot to him. He was going to write to Luna Lovegood. He picked up a quill, dipped it in his inkbottle, and began to write.

_Dear Luna,_

_How are you? I'm really sorry, after what happened, I was too messed up to ask anyone really, and I really wanted to thank you for what you said, when we spoke while everyone else was at the feast. It really meant a lot to me, thanks._

_You're going to think I'm a total idiot now, because you don't really know me that well, but I keep thinking about what happened, and I needed to tell someone about it, someone who could understand… I hope you don't mind that I wrote to you._

_I have to accept it. Sirius is gone, and he's not coming back, not ever. I only knew him for two years and… it wasn't enough. He'd already been kept away from me for twelve years, twelve years when he was supposed to be my guardian, and in two years he showed me more fatherly affection than I had ever thought possible, even though I didn't get to see him very often in that time. It just seems so unfair. He protected me, advised me, comforted, warned and, sometimes, told me off. All the things parents are supposed to do, he did, as much as he could. And now he's gone._

_It's almost worse than my parents. I never knew them: everyone tells me about them, how they were very powerful, how they were such good people, how they stood up for what they believed… but I knew Sirius as I'll never know them. That struck me, just recently. This time the person who's gone is someone I had grown to… to love. I always get sympathy from people because I'm an orphan, but I can only imagine what you went through, or what the Diggorys went through, and as for Neville…_

_I'm sorry to go on and on like this. I wanted to say thanks, to tell you what I'm thinking (I don't have a pensieve, and I could really do with one right now), but I also wanted to ask how you are. Have you told your Dad about that night? Was he upset? Are you? Quite honestly, Luna, it's always a bit tricky to guess what you're thinking. Maybe you don't want people to know, which is fair enough: hell, I'm famous for yelling at people for asking questions, apparently. Just remember, if you need someone to talk to, I'd be more than happy. _

_By the way, from tomorrow I'll be staying at the Burrow with the Weasleys. It shouldn't be a problem: Hedwig should know where to go._

_Thanks again,_

_Harry _

He set down his quill and looked over the letter. He seemed to have rambled on a lot, but he hoped that Luna would understand. She had been so comforting, just before the end of term… he almost wished that it would be less than four weeks till he next saw her.

Until then, though, he would have Ron and Hermione, and Ginny of course. He thought about her for a while. She had been so… so dependable, last year. She had been his comrade, his friend. She had changed so much from the frightened first year who had been possessed by Voldemort. He wondered why she was so loyal to him, realising, that, in the past, he had never been particularly friendly with her, just polite in an embarrassed sort of way, because her crush on him had so obvious. Now, though, she was going out with Dean Thomas and was one of his closest friends. He hoped she realised that.

He sighed and looked at his clock, surprised to see that it was now ten. He needed to be up in reasonable time tomorrow to pack, so after seeing Hedwig out safely with his letter clasped in her talons, he undressed and lay in his bed, breathing slowly. Since his talk with Professor Dumbledore at the end of last year, he had decided that the best thing he could do during the holidays was try to improve at Occlumency. True, it had been very hard to learn from Snape, he didn't need anyone poking around in his memory deliberately, and it would be tricky to practice with no one attempting to read his thoughts, but every night he tried to go to sleep having emptied his mind, dispelling all thoughts from his consciousness.

It wasn't easy. His thoughts were so chaotic and confused that he could only hold on to them for a few seconds at a time. Still, he persevered, grasping at each thought and slowly, deliberately, letting it go. The first, of course, was losing Sirius. It was the hardest thought to be rid of, because he still had trouble accepting it. But he let himself be calm about it. Yes, he was dead. They had had two years, which was much better than nothing, and he had died as he would have wanted to, fighting dark wizards and protecting his godson. True, his death was partly Harry's fault, since none of them would have been there if not for him, but he knew no one blamed him. Voldemort had invaded his mind and made him think things: he was certain that Sirius would have done the same, and someone had told him that his father would have as well.

And so the thought left him. He moved on to other things. How confused he was about Ron and Hermione: it was quite clear now that they were closer than friends and were only likely to grow closer. Well, he could deal with that. He had always known that there was something slightly different about their relationship, and it wasn't as if they wouldn't still be his best friends. Yes, he could deal with them getting together. The thought left him.

The one it left behind was much more difficult. How did he feel, right now? He had realised pretty quickly that he was over Cho. Yes she was a nice girl, and one of Dumbledore's Army, but it had been a mistake to get involved with her. She was still trying to get over Cedric, and understandable as that was, he didn't want to dwell on that anymore. He couldn't endure seeing her cry again. So he had stayed away, and she had done the same… she had even got a new boyfriend, it seemed, though Harry doubted whether they had ever got far enough to consider himself as having ever been her boyfriend. If she found Michael Corner a comfort, and if he liked her, then good for them. Of course, he had left Ginny for her, which had made him slightly angry, but Ginny was apparently going out with Dean now. That caused another pang and he wondered why before letting it go.

And then, of course, there was _that_ thought. Not the worst, but by far the most worrying, the most pressing, and the one he tried hardest to avoid. The memory of what Dumbledore had told him, the prophecy he had shown to Harry in his pensieve… the knowledge that he, Harry, would have to destroy Voldemort once and for all, or die himself and doom the whole world to Voldemort's domination. He couldn't allow that, but it made him wonder. Would he be able to do it? Would he be able to say those two words, the words that had killed so many, including his parents and Cedric Diggory, and feel enough hatred that the spell would kill? He honestly didn't know. Maybe there would be another way to do it, a way that didn't involve the killing curse, something about the power of love that Dumbledore had told him he possessed…

It would sort itself out. All these problems, everything, they didn't matter right now. He could serve everyone best by ignoring the thoughts and thus closing his mind to Voldemort. Finally, when he felt as though he was floating in a great sea of nothingness, he drifted into sleep, and dreamed only of two faces: the understanding, sympathetic and rather vague face of Luna, and Ginny's obstinate, courageous expression, juxtaposed with her frightened reliance such a long time ago, after he had killed the basilisk and destroyed the memory of Tom Riddle. He wondered vaguely what they meant.

* * *

Breakfast the next morning was almost entirely silent. The Dursleys were aware that, soon enough, Harry would be leaving them for almost a year, and while they were obviously glad of that the fact that wizards would be coming to pick him up unnerved them terribly. Uncle Vernon sat at the table, his coffee untouched and his eyes not moving across his paper, feeling very lucky that he would be at work when the boy left. Dudley slouched on his stool, munching his cereal. He might well have been scared of the forthcoming invasion of his house, except that his prowess at boxing had apparently increased, and with it a development of his ability to hide emotions like fear. He hadn't gone near or spoken to Harry since he had come home, which was fine by Harry. As long as he didn't eat any random sweets, he should be okay.

Harry went upstairs again right afterwards and checked his room to make sure that he had left nothing behind. His Firebolt, invisibility cloak, cauldron, books, robes and everything else he would need had been packed for a few hours: his relatively early night and extremely restful sleep had meant he had woken ridiculously early for a schoolboy in the holidays. He paused at that, just for a moment. It was hard to remember, sometimes, that he was, still, a schoolboy. He had done things, faced things, that most adult wizards would never have to deal with in their lives. How many other people had learnt to conjure a patronus at the age of thirteen, or would ever kill a fully-grown basilisk? The thought was gone quickly, but was soon replaced by another, rather more unpleasant one. It wouldn't be long till his OWL results arrived.

He wasn't too nervous about most of them. He was pretty sure he'd done well in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures. Potions he was unsure of, and he had mixed feelings towards his intention of continuing with the subject. A career as an auror meant that you had to be good at Potions, but could he face another two years with Snape? More to the point, if he hadn't got good enough grades in the subject Snape would be likely not to accept him anyway. He was pretty sure he had failed both History of Magic and Astronomy, since both exams had been interrupted. In Astronomy, he had witnessed the attempted arrest of Hagrid by Professor Umbridge and several aurors, as well as an attack that had injured Professor McGonagall quite badly. History of Magic had been when Harry had seen the vision that Voldemort had sent him, of Sirius lying alone and vulnerable in the department of mysteries, at Voldemort's mercy…

A surge of anger swept through Harry as he remembered that, and it mingled with self-disgust. How could he have allowed himself to be manipulated like that? How could he have risked everyone who had accompanied him, trying to save Sirius, only to cause his death? Why hadn't he worked harder at Occlumency from the start? How could he have forgotten the mirror Sirius had given him, a secure and secret way to communicate with the outside world while under Umbridge's tyranny?

He forced himself to calm down. Yes, all these things were his fault, but the event hadn't been caused just by him. Dumbledore had admitted that it was greatly his fault, since he should have realised that Sirius would not be contained in his ancestral home forever, and that Harry would reject Snape's teaching him Occlumency, when he himself should have taught Harry. And of course, Voldemort was to blame most of all. It had been he who had set the trap, who had sent the death eaters, and it was Bellatrix Lestrange who had killed Sirius.

Harry remembered using an unforgivable curse on her, when his fury had overtaken him. He had failed, but he had wondered for a while whether someone would berate him, or even arrest him, for his use of it. No one had. Of course, hardly anyone knew, and no one who wanted Harry shut up in Azkaban, but he wondered sometimes if that was strictly right in terms of justice. He wondered what else he might be capable of, if rage like that ever overtook him again.

The morning passed slowly. The early sunlight had given way to a light drizzle that had soon soaked everything outside, and the heat was oppressive. Harry lay on his bed, thinking. For some reason, he thought of Ginny again. Why was that? He shook his head as though to clear it, and realised something important. He was in desperate need of comfort. He needed to be around friends and family, and to be able to think about new things. He got up and had just found his favourite book, 'Flying with the Cannons', in his trunk, when there was a shriek from below, followed by some very fast speaking.

Harry rushed down stairs and saw Mr Weasley standing in the living room, attempting to calm Aunt Petunia, who seemed to have collapsed on to the sofa. Dudley was nowhere in sight. Harry imagined that he had scarpered the moment Mr Weasley had arrived. Tall and balding, though still with vividly red hair, Arthur Weasley turned to Harry as he walked in and smiled broadly at him.

"Harry! Wonderful to see you. I'm very sorry, I seem to have shocked your aunt, I should have remembered that she's not used to people apparating."

Harry grinned. It was wonderful to see him again; he had felt quite close to Mr Weasley ever since the night when he had experienced the snake's attack on him. "It's good to see you too, Mr Weasley. Hang on," and in a strangely affectionate mood he hurried to the kitchen and poured a glass of water, which he brought back to the living room and handed to his aunt. It was then he noticed that Mr Weasley was dressed in muggle clothes, very much like the ones he had worn to the Quidditch world cup. He suppressed a laugh, guessing that Mr Weasley had been trying to be thoughtful and considerate by looking as normal as possible, but had slipped up rather when he decided to apparate. Aunt Petunia looked at Harry with a slightly grateful expression on her face when he handed her the glass, and proceeded to sip it in silence.

"How are we going to the Burrow?" Harry was slightly confused. No one had said anything about how he would be travelling, but he had sort of assumed they would drive. Seeing Mr Weasley in the living room had been just as surprising for Harry as for his aunt, though for different reasons.

"I've had special permission from the department of magical transportation to create a portkey here… we'll use something from your room, I suppose. It's by far the safest way, since you can't apparate yourself yet."

Harry nodded, then turned to his aunt. "Well, bye. I'll see you next summer I suppose." She looked at him and nodded, apparently not trusting herself to speak, but Harry was surprised at how gentle her expression was: she had never looked at him like that before. He smiled slightly, and then beckoned for Mr Weasley to follow him up to his room.

While Harry assembled his things in the middle of the room, Mr Weasley picked up an old pencil that had been lying on Harry's desk and muttered, _"Portus."_ He looked up at Harry and smiled. "The timer's set for thirty seconds, Harry. We need to be touching all your belongings, make sure they get there too. And, just so you know, we'll arrive in the garden. Less chance of accidents."

Harry nodded, put one hand on his trunk and clutched Hedwig's empty cage in the crook of the other before touching the pencil with a free finger. A few seconds later there was a lurch, a feeling of being pulled a very long way instantly navel first, and then he staggered, almost falling onto the soft grass of the Weasleys' back garden.

Almost before he had righted himself there was a jubilant shriek and he was pretty much knocked over by Hermione, who was hugging him so tightly he could hardly breathe. Mr Weasley chuckled. "I wish I could stay Harry, but I've got to get back to work. I'm supposed to report that you got here safely. I'll see you tonight."

As he disapparated Harry heard another, very familiar voice. "Give him a chance, Hermione." Ron stood behind her, grinning at him as Hermione stepped away and positively beamed.

"Oh, it's so good to see you! How are you?"

"All the better for seeing you two," Harry said with a chuckle. He laughed again at the looks of incredulity on their faces. "Look, I've pretty much decided to stop being miserable. We have got to spend some time being happy, and this is pretty much it." He grasped one end of his trunk, since Hermione's impact had made him drop everything, and Ron hurried to take the other while Hermione picked up the empty cage. They walked towards the burrow, chatting happily, and Harry had his wish. He was home.

* * *

A few hours later Harry sat on his camp bed in Ron's room, looking at the Chudley Cannons posters plastered on the walls and just enjoying the feeling of being here. After being subjected to massive hugs from Mrs Weasley he had spent an enjoyable morning with Ron and Hermione. Ginny, they told him, had stayed over night with a friend, but would be back some time that afternoon. He was looking forward to seeing her. Somehow the sight of her always made him feel… he didn't know how to describe it. Happy certainly, and safe as well, but there was also something else, something akin to how he felt during Quidditch matches that he couldn't put his finger on. He grinned, silently laughing at himself and headed downstairs. Ron and Hermione had begun a game of chess after lunch and they were still at it, although Harry noticed that neither was paying much attention to the game: they were bickering gently in their usual, amicable fashion, and Harry noticed that Ron's hand lay on top of Hermione's. He grinned at this, but didn't interrupt, not wishing to make them feel embarrassed.

He thought back to what he had said to them when he had arrived that morning. His feeling of happiness and contentment faded slightly. To be perfectly honest, it had been a lie. He hadn't really dealt with the events of the previous month, he was still miserable when he thought of them, burning with anger and hate and guilt. On the other hand, his practice at Occlumency seemed to be helping: not only were his dreams never more than vague half-pictures, but the process of clearing his mind before he slept helped to rationalise and justify his thoughts. While he still felt guilty, he at least knew exactly what he was guilty of, and while that wasn't really anything to be happy about, being less confused helped, and he wasn't nearly as confused as he had been. And he had meant what he had said about this being the time to be happy: he had a strong feeling that the emotion was going to be a short supply in the coming months.

Brooding on this, he wandered the house, vaguely wondering where everyone was: he was used to the Burrow being crowded with people whenever he was there. He mentally checked the list. Ron, Hermione and Mrs Weasley were here, Ginny would be around later, Mr Weasley was at work, as was Bill, who was apparently bringing Fleur Delacouer round for dinner. He grinned at that, remembering the way she had looked at Bill before the third task of the tri-wizard tournament. It seemed so long ago. Of course, his life had been changed completely a few hours after that, when he had watched Voldemort rise from the cauldron… he stopped that thought, knowing it would be a bad idea to relive the moment that had more or less divided his life in two. So he returned to the checklist. Charlie, he gathered, wouldn't be here for a week or so, but that was understandable, as he was grown up and had a job to attend: the only reason Bill was around was because he had a desk job at Gringott's in London now, instead of his work in Egypt, so that he could help the Order. Fred and George were also coming tonight, although they had a flat above their new shop in Diagon Alley. He looked forward to seeing them as well. And Percy, too. After the Ministry's turn around in attitude after seeing proof of Voldemort's return, Percy had come back to his family, apologising profusely, and they had welcomed him back eagerly. He still worked in the Minister's Office, and now acted partly as a messenger between the Minister and Dumbledore.

He had been drifting aimlessly as he thought, and was just passing the fire when it erupted into green flame and spewed out a very surprised looking Ginny. Harry caught her before she knocked him over. For a moment he looked at her startled face as they clutched each other, trying not to fall, and he realised all of a sudden why he had so wanted to see Ginny, and why he felt as he did whenever he thought of her.

The point was that he liked her. Really, really liked her. As he hastily let go and let her steady herself, he could feel himself blushing. He remembered the way she herself had blushed so often on seeing him when she was younger, and almost laughed at the bizarre role reversal. Standing before him was a very beautiful young woman. She had let her hair grow long, and her ponytail hung down well below her shoulders. At one time he had thought she took after her mother, as Charlie and the twins did, but she must already be taller than the twins, nearing his own height, and slender with it. He saw a blush creeping over her own cheeks, the wonderfully cute freckles almost disappearing, and his eyes met her own large, brown eyes, which seemed at once as dark as to be almost black but also to shine with light. He swallowed and glanced away before smiling at her, trying to act as though nothing had happened.

"Hi, Ginny. Great to see you."

"Hi, Harry." Her voice sounded slightly confused or bewildered, so Harry tried to put her at ease.

"Er, did you have a nice time with your friend?"

"Yeah, it was great." At once, she sounded more natural, as though she had relaxed, and her voice sent little shivers all over Harry's skin. He had never reacted like this to a girl, never, not even Cho. The mere sound of her voice had never done this to him. He swallowed, and walked with her into the kitchen as she continued. "I was staying with Rose Grant… you know, in Hufflepuff, in my year?" Harry nodded, vaguely remembering a dark haired girl wandering over to talk to Ginny from the Hufflepuff table during meals at Hogwarts. "She took me to a cinema, we saw a film." Harry would have laughed at her apparent excitement over such an achievement if he hadn't been caught between thinking about Ginny and remembering that he had never been to a cinema in his life.

"Ginny! How was your evening, dear?" Mrs Weasley looked up, beaming, from her pastry making, which seemed to involve some rather random wand movements, until Harry saw the dough kneading itself in response.

"Oh, it was…"

At that moment there was a loud shrieking sound and they all looked at the window. Two owls plummeted towards them, one flying above the other, the lower one trying desperately to support the other from underneath. The two teenagers threw the window open and Mrs Weasley waved her wand at the owls, causing them to slow down so that they could fall gently into Harry's and Ginny's arms.

Ginny had caught Hedwig, who quickly hooted in thanks and flew to Harry's shoulder, where she nibbled his ear and stuck out a leg that grasped a letter. Harry handed Ginny the owl he had caught, who was a very exhausted looking Errol. She hurried to put him on his perch and get him water, and he stood drinking it for a while, as Harry placed Hedwig next to him. Both Harry and Ginny clutched letters addressed to them.

"We're you expecting a letter?" Ginny's tone was light and casual as she slit her own open. Harry had been completely distracted by Hedwig's arrival. He had only written to Luna the previous evening… she must have replied almost at once. Realising that Ginny had asked him a question, he struggled to reply.

"Er… yeah. Yeah, I wrote to Luna a little while ago." He was staring at the unopened letter so hard that he didn't see Ginny's look of profound shock and, in fact hurt. Still not looking up, he replied in kind. "You expecting something too?"

She looked away from him and made towards the door. "Yes, it's a letter from Dean." Her tone was just slightly icy, enough to rouse Harry from his stupor. From Dean? _Oh, of course… why shouldn't she get letters from her boyfriend? _he thought, his shoulders drooping slightly.

He stood in the kitchen for a while, feeling a sudden despondency, not noticing the odd looks Mrs Weasley was giving the pair of them. He remembered what Hermione had told him and Ron last year, that Ginny had given up on Harry… that she still liked him as a friend… he stumped back to his room, steeped in gloom. He was so stupid. If he was going to develop… feelings for Ginny, why couldn't he have done it while she still liked him? In the past, when confronted by Ginny's rather obvious crush, he had been embarrassed and not exactly keen to do anything to encourage her, but now he found himself in the same position… except of course that Ginny was actually with someone else. He lay on his bed, a strange lethargy overcoming him. It was a few minutes before he remembered the letter clutched in his hand. Opening it he saw tidy if somewhat over elaborate handwriting that stretched to the bottom of the page.

_Dear Harry,_

_I have to say, I was very surprised when your owl arrived with a letter for me. I read it straight away, even abandoning my proofreading duties for my Dad, because I knew it must be important, and I was right._

_Harry, I have to say I'm both honoured and a little shocked that you chose to confide in me like this. I know you explained why in your letter, but for some reason I still couldn't quite believe it… and you know me, there aren't many things I won't believe._

_I can't pretend to understand what you're going through, Harry. When my Mum died, I think she was actually fairly happily… she always loved to experiment. With you… your parents, and now your godfather were taken from you, violently, with no warning, and while you could say that's the same for me, there wasn't anyone who really caused my Mum's accident, whereas you're the victim of three murders._

_Still, I'll try to help. Of course, I know there's something you're not telling me, something you're not telling anyone, but I can only assume there's a very good reason for that, and when we're ready, and when **you** are ready, you'll let us know, and maybe help you. You know that everyone in the DA, all your friends, the Order of the Phoenix you told me about and especially, I think, those of us who came to the ministry that night, deeply care for you and want to help. We're all here for you Harry, whenever you need us. _

_You should remember, Harry, that while Sirius might be dead as far as we understand it, he'll never be gone. I didn't know him, though I would have liked to (you remember the article about him, I knew he wasn't guilty), but he meant a lot to you and Ron, Hermione and Ginny, as well as, I would have thought, other members of the Order. You mentioned that Professor Lupin was one of his best friends: I imagine that he is feeling this just as sorely as you are. But while all those people remember him, he can't ever really be gone. He was too important to all of you to ever be forgotten. _

_I'm sorry for rambling, and I'll try to be brief. You asked how I was, and whether I told my Dad what happened. I told him the whole story, the moment I got home. He was very scared for a while. I'd never seen him like that before. But he told me he was proud of me for helping my friends and doing the right thing, and when I think about it that way, I feel fine. I did what needed to be done at the time: we all did. You might think that the only thing to come out of that night was the death of a wonderful friend, but remember that since then the ministry of magic has admitted that Voldemort has come back and we revealed the identities of many death-eaters. I don't know if you know, but they went to Azkaban a week or so ago. They'll probably escape soon enough, but people will know them for what they are, and Voldemort will be very much weakened by that. _

_This all seems very serious, and I'm sorry, so on to other things… I'm dying to know how everyone does with their OWLs, so please write back when you get the results and tell me all about them. How's your summer been so far? Have your muggle relatives been terrible? I hope you manage to have a good time. I think it will do you good._

_Remember, I'm always available, if you need someone to talk to._

_Say high to Ginny for me._

_Love,_

_Luna_

Harry folded up the letter, slightly stunned by Luna's response. She was so kind, and thoughtful… Harry knew he had made the right choice when he had decided to write to her and confide in her. She had given him a lot to think about, but he felt strangely consoled and comforted. He lay back, thinking how right she was, especially about all the people who cared for him… the Weasleys, Hermione, the Order, everyone was willing to support him. It caused him a slight twinge. In the past he might have wondered why they should all care for him, but he knew now, after five years, that they appreciated him for who he was, and that was enormously gratifying. Of course, there was another reason why he was important…

He winced. He had all but managed to avoid that memory for two weeks, but Luna had been very near when she had written about something he wasn't telling anyone. He hoped that, in time, he would be able to tell someone the content of Professor Trelawny's first prediction. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift, and inevitably his thoughts returned to Ginny. Ginny, who was so kind and wise and loyal and beautiful and wonderful…

He stopped when he felt a hollow lurch in the pit of his stomach. He was too late. She had someone else, and she had long ago given up on him. He was too late again, just as he had been once before, to ask Cho to the Yule Ball. Of course, thinking back, that hadn't brought anything like the feeling of despair he felt now, especially since he and Cho had split up. It just seemed so unfair, somehow. After all, he lo-

Harry sat up very suddenly, breathing hard and fast, his eyes wide in astonishment. That was it. He loved Ginny. He loved her. He had never before really understood what those words meant, but he knew now, knew it in the centre of his being. Just as he knew that she didn't love him. He collapsed back onto the bed, grief overwhelming him, and he lay there for a long time, until Ron fetched him down for dinner. The letter lay abandoned on the bed, just two words visible:

_Love,_

_Luna_


	2. Chapter Two: Cause for Celebration

Friends and More

Chapter two: Cause for Celebration

"Harry, what's wrong?"

Harry looked up, startled, at Hermione's words. She looked desperately worried and was almost whispering, both she and Ron leaning in close towards him. Ron's expression was uncharacteristically sober: he looked just as worried as Hermione. They were sitting in the front room of the Burrow, where Harry and Ron had ostensibly been playing Chess with Hermione watching. Between them, unnoticed, a few of the pawns had sat down and seemed to be gossiping cheerfully, much to the disapproval of the larger pieces.

"What do you mean?" Harry instantly went on the defensive. He knew what was wrong, and he also knew he couldn't tell anyone. He had been trying very hard, since his arrival, not to show his feelings, but he should have guessed that Hermione and Ron knew him far too well for that. He had been feeling pretty miserable since Luna's letter had arrived a few days ago, despite the fact that the letter itself had been very comforting, because of what he had discovered about his feelings. He had tried to have a good time. Apparently he had failed.

"Mate, you've been downright gloomy since you got here… and you told us you had decided not to be." Ron sounded concerned, and slightly frustrated. Harry lowered his eyes, unwilling to see the disappointment and sadness on the faces of his best friends. Ron cleared his throat slightly. "This is about Sirius, isn't it?"

For a moment, Harry stared at them. Both were looking almost scared, and he realised that they thought he was going to react badly to that. On the other hand, and much as he didn't want to cheapen Sirius' death, there was no way he could tell them what was really wrong. "Well… mostly, I guess." He shook his head. "I miss him so much…"

Hermione lent across and put her arms around him, holding him tightly, while Ron laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. Harry sat there, feeling awful for the half-lie he had told, but also very comforted by the closeness. He put one arm round Hermione and gave her a brief squeeze before pulling away and smiling weakly.

"I'll be ok, really I will. I'm getting there. And I'm sorry to make you worry about me, when I said we should be having fun." He looked down at the board, and realised with a start just how distracted Ron must have been. He nudged a rook into position and murmured softly, "Checkmate."

Ron looked down, gazed at the board with disbelief, then let out a bark of laughter that caused Hermione and Harry to grin broadly. They were still laughing when there was a loud tapping noise at the window. Harry turned and saw a beautiful Barn Owl he didn't recognise perched on the windowsill, waiting patiently to be let in. He opened the window and the owl fluttered inside, landing lightly on his shoulder and sticking out her leg, to which were attached three letters bearing the official Hogwarts seal. Harry took them very nervously, and silently handed Ron and Hermione their letters as the owl took flight. Both the others were rigid with anxiety. They all knew far too well just what these were. These were their O.W.L. results.

Harry gulped. All three of them were standing and holding the letters as though they might explode. Harry suddenly realised he didn't really want to do this with them. "I'm going outside," he muttered, and strode quickly to the front door and out into the beautiful summer day. He walked briskly to the edge of the small copse that stood a little way back from the Burrow, the sleeves of his loose t-shirt flapping in the breeze that soothed the heat of the day, and sat down with his back against a large tree trunk. Before he could think much and worry himself further, he slit open the envelope and read the letter.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_Following are the results of the Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations that you undertook in June. _

Astronomy:A Care of Magical Creatures:O 

_Charms:O_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts:O (Special Commendation)_

_Divination:A_

_Herbology:E_

_History of Magic:A_

_Potions:E_

Transfiguration:O 

_Congratulations for achieving your targets for these important qualifications._

_Next year your subjects will be: Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions and Transfiguration._

_Your regular message containing information on the start of term, as well as equipment and books for your studies, will be with you in a few weeks._

_Professor M McGonagall, deputy Headmistress_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_P.S. Very well done indeed, Mr Potter. I feel I should tell you that I am personally very proud of your achievements. Your special commendation in Defence Against the Dark Arts is with reference to the fact that you achieved the highest score in the year for the entire country, but I think I can safely tell you that all the members of your Defence Association who took the exam also achieved an Outstanding grade. Those who did not participate could only achieve Average grade or lower, since they were unable to study the practical side. You were obviously a superb teacher. Professor Dumbledore, myself and the other teachers are immensely proud. Enjoy the rest of your holidays. MM_

Harry put down the letter, stunned disbelief in every line of his face. Then he picked it up and read it again, wanting to make sure that he had got it right. Then he put it down again. It was only after a few minutes shocked silence that he realised someone was sitting next to him, watching him closely from behind a curtain of bright red hair. Ginny. He felt his insides lurch at the thought of her sitting so close, but he turned to her, wanting to tell her how he had done but unable to speak.

"Can I see?" She spoke very softly, almost tentatively, and Harry's insides lurched again. It was a very different voice form the one she had been using towards him since he had arrived, which had a cheerful, friendly indifference to it that made Harry feel sick. He nodded and handed her the parchment. She read it through, her expression not changing, and when she finished she put it down and looked at Harry. He couldn't read her at all. What was she thinking? She suddenly reached out and hugged him to her, her head buried in his shoulder, and he was surprised to feel tears making his shirt damp. In the past, he realised, he would have found this embarrassing and uncomfortable. Now he reacted to some instinct, with no thought involved, holding her close and letting her cry, rocking her gently. After a while she let go of him, and he reluctantly let her move away, ending the happy torture he had endured, knowing that the hug had meant far less to her than it had to him, and that it would never mean anything more. Her eyes were rather red and her cheeks slightly blotchy from the tears, and her lips quivered as she smiled weakly at him. All Harry could think of at that moment was how unbearably, adorably beautiful she was.

"Oh, I'm sorry Harry." Her voice shook and she sniffed and shook her head briskly, making her hair flutter out in all directions and causing another pang in Harry's heart. "I didn't mean to go to pieces like that, I'm just so happy for you. And proud. You'll be able to do Auror training and everything and… oh, well done."

Harry's voice came back, although apparently it had been treated with sandpaper in its absence. "Thanks. Erm…" He thought desperately for a change of topic. In all honesty, this closeness to Ginny was killing him. He had to get away. "Erm… the others got theirs as well, we should go and see how they did."

"Ok, let's go." They got up and walked in silence. Harry didn't know what to think, his mind was utterly blank, although something odd struck him. He frowned, but was distracted a moment later when he and Ginny walked into the front room of the Burrow to see Ron and Hermione, both clearly ecstatic over their grades, furiously hugging and kissing each other. Harry stood on the threshold looking rather shocked, while Ginny grinned mischievously. Eventually Harry decided to alert them to the fact that they were not alone, and cleared his throat significantly. Ron and Hermione leapt apart, both flushing deep crimson, and Ginny burst out laughing, collapsing on an armchair and clutching her sides. Hermione leapt at Harry.

"Harry! How did you do?" The question was genuine, although Harry felt sure it was partly to distract him from what he had just witnessed. He grinned and handed his parchment to her. Her eyes went wide as she read it, before thrusting it at Ron and pulling Harry into a bone-breaking hug. While Hermione performed a very good imitation of a Boa Constrictor, Harry watched over her shoulder while Ron grinned and put the letter aside. Eventually Hermione let him go, her face radiant with excitement as he bent over double, trying to get some air back into his lungs. Ron clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Well done, mate, really. That's so great, we're doing the same classes! And… McGonagall wrote _that_?" He shook his head in disbelief. "I didn't think she was _capable_ of some of those words." Hermione glared at him, but he grinned impishly and her expression dissolved into smiles again. Harry noticed Hermione's parchment and grabbed it. She moved to get it back, but he held her off with one arm and held the letter high over his head to read it. Unsurprisingly, Hermione had got Os in every single subject she had taken, which had been least two more than Harry or Ron. There were also a fair number of 'Special Commendations' like his own: she had got the highest marks in the country for Transfiguration, Charms and Potions. In a sudden gesture he chucked the letter at Ginny who was laughing at their antics and then hugged Hermione again, which served the double purpose of congratulating her and stopping her from getting at Ginny. Or, in fact, scratching his eyes out. He didn't hug her for long though, mostly because Ron wanted to take over.

Harry sank down onto the sofa, watching Hermione pretend to struggle out of Ron's embrace, and glanced down Ron's results. They were pretty much the same as his own, except that he had got an 'E' in Charms, and there was, of course, no Special Commendation for him for Defence Against the Dark Arts. He looked at the bottom, and saw that Ron was, indeed, taking the same classes next year as he was himself. He frowned for a moment, catching sight of the Potions mark.

"Hey… Ron, why do you think we got into the Potions class for next year? I thought Snape only accepted people who got 'O's in his NEWT class."

Ron released Hermione and they both collapsed, breathing hard but laughing, on to the sofa next to him. Ron shrugged. "At a guess, he realised he'd prefer to make our lives hell than just not have to teach us at all." Harry snorted: he doubted that, somehow, remembering how Snape had said last year how thrilled he would be to say good bye to some of his students. Hermione frowned slightly.

"Either that, or someone told him to accept us. In your case, Harry, I suppose it could have been so he'd have an excuse to go on teaching you Occlumency." Harry grimaced, remembering how Malfoy had reacted when Snape had told him he was giving Harry remedial Potions lessons. Hermione smiled again. "Either way, I'm glad he did. I don't think any of the rest of the Gryffindors in our year even wanted to do Potions, and I wouldn't want to be doing it alone with the Slytherins." She shuddered at the thought and, in an unusual display of public affection, nestled closer into Ron's side. Ron looked surprised, but really quite pleased, and put his arm around her. Harry tried not to show how that was affecting him, and tried equally hard not to look at Ginny.

He would have liked nothing better than to curl up with her like that, but that was an impossibility. And he didn't want to lose what he did have with her, which was a strong friendship. He valued her too much to risk that; especially after all she had done for him last year. His thoughts flew back to that dark evening at the Department of Mysteries, when she had been injured while trying to escape from the Death Eaters, and further back, to the DA meetings, where she had been so calm and sensible all the time, able to diffuse tension between members with a word, and then to the time when she had told him what it was like to be possessed by Voldemort. He still wondered about that. It had been brave of her to tell him. He didn't think she'd told anyone quite what she had experienced at that time, but she had faced up to it for his sake. No, there was no way he could lose her friendship. So he forced himself to look away, out of the window, and to think of other things.

Fortunately, at that moment they all heard footsteps on the stairs, and Mrs Weasley's voice drifted down the stairs. "Did I hear some post arrive?"

Harry had a sudden idea. He caught everyone's eye and, when he was certain he had their full attention, put on a deliberately glum expression. Ginny's eyes twinkled, and Ron and Hermione looked excited, but they all schooled their expressions as Mrs Weasley came in. She looked around at them, her bright expression fading as she surveyed three miserable and one gloomily sympathetic face.

"Did… did you get the results, dears?" Her voice sounded almost fearful as she looked at everyone. Harry and Hermione looked away, as though unwilling to burden her with their failure. Ron stood up, strode over to his mother and put his arms around her. She looked startled and very worried, but hugged him back. "Ron, what's… what's the matter?"

"I'm sorry, Mum." Harry nearly burst with laughter, but still gazed soulfully out of the window. Ron had made his voice very soft and almost hoarse, as though he was trying not to cry.

"Oh… oh _Ron_! Mrs Weasley hugged him to her in a comforting way, and murmured, "How many, dear?"

Ron was now visibly shaking with suppressed laughter, but Mrs Weasley apparently took it for sobbing. "Only… only nine, Mum."

Mrs Weasley stood back, her face a neutral mask as she surveyed her very tall but rather nervous-looking son. Then she casually drew her wand and said, "_Petrificus totalus._" Ron immediately snapped rigid under the full body-bind curse, and Mrs Weasley lazily waved her wand and levitated him to the ceiling where he drifted round in circles, eyes dancing with merriment. The other three were howling with laughter. "All four of you are very wicked. I should do the same to all of you." Her voice was very calm, but she was obvious she was pleased. Harry waved his hands.

"We're… we're sorry, Mrs Weasley," Harry managed to force out. "We… we all did… fairly well. Look, here's Ron's letter," and he scooped up the parchment and handed it to her. She looked stern, but her eyes were dancing with merriment as well as she took it, and they widened much as Hermione's had when she read what was written.

"Oh… Ronnie, this is wonderful!" She waved her wand at him without really paying attention, meaning to let him down. The body-bind curse lifted and he drifted lower, but the levitation charm wore off slightly too soon, and he fell to the floor from a height of about four feet.

"Ow," he said, dazedly." Hermione looked a little concerned, but he sat up and rubbed his legs down a bit. "I guess I deserved that," he said with a rueful grin. He sat back down next to Hermione again and she instantly nestled into his side. Harry noticed Mrs Weasley's small smile, even though she wasn't looking directly at them. Instead, she looked at Harry.

"And how about you, Harry dear?"

Harry paused for just a moment. Even though Ron had done really very well, both he and Hermione had done better and for some reason he felt that the focus should be on Ron, at least for today. "Oh, pretty much the same as Ron," he said brightly, but giving Hermione a meaningful look. She must either have had the same idea or understood his look, because, when Mrs Weasley looked at her, she just said, "I did pretty well." Ginny very nearly burst out laughing at this, but when her mother had left the room she looked straight at Harry with a strange but certainly not unpleasant look on her face, something like approval. He smiled weakly at her, then asked if Ron wanted another game of chess.

There was something of a party at the Burrow that night, partly to celebrate the OWL results but also because many of the members of the Order of the Phoenix were having a night off, so Mrs Weasley had arranged a large, buffet style dinner in the garden. By half past seven nearly everyone was there. Fred and George had arrived, with Angelina Johnson holding Fred's hand and blushing more than Harry would have thought possible, after the year she had spent as Gryffindor team captain. George sniggered away as Fred introduced Angelina to Mrs Weasley, who seemed delighted. Charlie arrived not long afterwards, looking as cheerful as ever, and Bill and Fleur came with Mr Weasley and Percy from the ministry, where Fleur was working with Percy as a liaison between the Order and the Minister himself. There was one shocking bit of news: Cornelius Fudge had stepped down as Minister for Magic that morning, saying that he didn't feel able to lead the Wizarding community through a time of such turmoil, so until a new Minister could be elected the Ministry was under the direction of a special council, including Mr Weasley, Mad-eye Moody and Professor Dumbledore. Other people came as well, including Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mundungus Fletcher, Tonks and Professor Lupin. Harry greeted everyone as cheerfully as he could, but when he got to Lupin words failed both of them. They merely shook hands, unable to vocalise what they meant to say.

Harry got drawn into a conversation with Tonks about Auror training. She looked very different tonight: her hair was bubblegum pink, which seemed to be a favourite colour of hers, but it was very long and she had changed her skin to look Oriental. She said that she had seen a Japanese cartoon while visiting her parents (Harry remembered that Tonks' Dad was a Muggle) and decided to try out the look. Hermione and Ginny, of course, both found it hilarious. Tonks grinned and turned back to Harry.

"Yeah, the training's difficult, but everyone tries to help. It's not as if there's anyone deliberately trying to make you fail anything." Harry grinned weakly. That would be a nice change, if that was what he decided to do after Hogwarts. Seven years being taught by Snape… that was something else. He wondered vaguely what could have driven him so insane as to take the NEWT Potions course, before he felt a light touch on his shoulder, and turned to see Professor Lupin looking at him. Tonks smiled and moved towards Ginny and Hermione.

"Can I have a word, Harry?" Lupin's voice was as quiet and calm as usual, but his eyes seemed more sorrowful and tired than ever before. Harry nodded and walked with Lupin to the edge of the garden, where they could talk undisturbed.

"Harry, You have to understand something. I don't blame you for what happened to Sirius. Not in any way. True, you may have acted unwisely, but under the circumstances no one could have expected any difference. You were manipulated and used."

Harry blinked, and realised that there were tears pricking in the corner of his eyes. He hadn't cried in a long time, but he felt that he might now. He hastily removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Lupin was looking at him, waiting, perhaps for an answer. Harry swallowed and took a deep breath.

"I can't help feeling it's my fault. I let myself be taken in, and that hurt a lot of people. But, I am trying to deal with it." He grinned weakly up at Lupin. "I've even been practicing Occlumency. Professor Snape'll be thrilled." Lupin smiled back, and then surprised Harry by pulling him into a brief hug. Harry found he didn't mind. Of all his friends who were present he felt that Lupin might understand him, and what he was going through, the best. Lupin rested a comforting hand on his shoulder for a moment, and then returned to the party.

Everyone seemed quite happy, all things considered. The twins had brought some of their own fireworks, and were impressing everyone with the amazing effects that had caused Professor Umbridge and Filch such enormous trouble the previous year. Remembering Fred and George's departure, and the mayhem they had left in their wake, Harry couldn't help grin as he chatted with Ron and Hermione about the summer, and the coming year. No one spoke about Voldemort. This wasn't surprising, Harry supposed, but he couldn't help wondering, in dark, silent moments, what the most evil wizard in the world was planning. After his talk with Dumbledore the previous year, Harry knew that Voldemort was aware of at least part of the prophecy that referred to him. Harry was going to have to be more careful than ever.

Catching sight of Ginny, a thought struck him. Perhaps it was for the best, that she didn't like him any more. At least it meant she hopefully wouldn't get hurt because of him. It wasn't a very cheerful thought, but Ginny meant more to him than his own happiness. As long as she was happy, he would cope. Realising that he had been somewhat distant with her since his arrival at the Burrow, he resolved to go and apologise to her. Just as he came up to her, though, someone else arrived at her side. Dean Thomas, who had apparently been invited as a surprise. Ginny looked very shocked when he pulled her into a hug, and Harry felt sickened. Somehow he no longer wanted to be at the party. He turned to go.

"Harry? Harry, did you want to say something?"

Ginny had pulled away from Dean, and was looking at him expectantly. Harry glanced between her beautiful face and Dean's confused one, and shook his head.

"No, that's alright. I need to… need to go and write to Luna."

As he turned away, he thought he saw Ginny look oddly hurt, as though he had severely disappointed her, but he resolved to ignore it and strode from the garden and straight up to the room he shared with Ron. From here he looked down at the party, while Hedwig hooted peacefully and Pigwidgeon twittered. The moonlight and the magical illuminations all around the garden made everything appear silvery and not quite real, as if Harry was looking through some kind of film. He saw the light shining off nine heads of furiously red hair, making it shimmer like beaten copper. And he saw one of them, sitting with a boy who had always been his friend.

Dean had, in many ways, been the most like Harry since the beginning of Hogwarts, since both of them had grown up completely unaware of the existence of wizards before receiving their Hogwarts letters. Of course, they hadn't been best friends. He had had Ron, and later Hermione as well, and Dean and Seamus Finnegan had always been inseparable, but there had been a kinship between them. He remembered Dean's awkward position last year. He had believed Harry and Dumbledore from the beginning, partly due to not being surrounded by Ministry of Magic propaganda, but Seamus had been much more doubtful. For most of the year, Dean had trodden a fine line of neutrality, for the sake of both friendships. He was a really good guy, and if he was honest Harry couldn't think of anyone who deserved to go out with Ginny more, if she liked him. He knew he didn't deserve her, after having pretty much ignored her for four years.

Thinking that he might as well do what he had said he would, he gathered together parchment, ink and quill and began to write. He noticed that he was becoming better at writing letters. It was a skill that had always eluded him in the past.

_Dear Luna,_

_Thanks very much for your letter, and for replying so quickly! What you said really meant a lot to me, and I've been thinking about it loads. _

_It's wonderful being at the Burrow with all the Weasleys. Everyone's cheerful and busy, and I feel like I'm really free here. It's nice to have people around who don't flinch at the sight of you. _

_I'm really glad you're ok, and that you're Dad is proud of you, instead of angry. He sounds really nice. If you like, if I notice any magical creatures or anything I don't recognise, I'll owl you about them. _

_Hmmm, I mentioned owls, didn't I? Yes, the three of us got our results. I won't bore you with the entire lists for all of us. I'll just say that all three of us passed everything, and by enough that we can take the courses we want to next year. Even Potions. Ron and I got Es in that, and we thought Snape only accepted people who got Os. I wonder why? Might be something to figure out once term starts. Come to think of it, I suppose I can tell you that Hermione got Os in every subject, like that's any surprise. I think she was doing twelve or thirteen owls, and that makes her some kind of record breaker. Oh, and everyone in out year who was in the DA got an O for Defence Against the Dark Arts. I don't think I had much to do with it, but it's certainly gratifying. I hope what I taught you will be useful for your own OWLs this year. (Ha ha ha, you thought I'd forgotten, right? Bad luck.)_

_What else? Ginny seems pretty happy, although slightly nervous about next year. There was a party tonight, and she spent most of it with Dean. I hope you don't mind friends talking about that all the time. I know I'm beginning to have to tune out of Ron and Hermione's conversations a lot more now if I want to hold onto my stomach. _

_I'm ok. Really, I think I am getting better. Occlumency practice is still helping, and I haven't had a nightmare in ages because of it. Also, I spoke to Professor Lupin tonight. Did I tell you that he, Sirius and my Dad were best friends at Hogwarts? I can't remember. Anyway, Lupin told me I mustn't blame myself. It was great hearing it from him. I suppose that he was closest to Sirius, and he would have the most reason to blame me, but he said he didn't, and neither did anyone else. So, I'm feeling much better. _

He paused, wondering why he was lying. He wasn't 'ok'. The truth was that, while Luna was an excellent confidant when it came to things like this, she only was really because they had shared a similar experience. He didn't think that she would quite understand what he felt for Ginny, and why he was therefore miserable much of the time. It seemed better not to mention it. It was just too private. There was no one in whom he felt he could confide about this. Hermione would have been good, but he didn't think she would understand how it felt. In normal circumstances he might have gone to Mr or Mrs Weasley, or even Bill or Charlie, but since he was madly in love with the highly treasured youngest member of the family, he wasn't sure this was quite the right, not to say safe, response.

No, he would have to deal with this on his own. He raged at himself, thinking how ridiculous it was that he could get past dragons, kill basilisks, fight dementors, face Voldemort, rescue his best friend from the bottom of a lake and steel himself to eat Hagrid's cooking, and yet he couldn't bring himself to do anything about his current situation. Shaking his head to clear it, he quickly finished his letter.

_It's my birthday in a couple of days, the first time I haven't spent it with the Dursleys! I don't know what we're going to do; I think Mrs Weasly mentioned something about going to Diagon Alley. Maybe we'll celebrate and do our shopping for Hogwarts at the same time, but I suppose that'll still be a while away, since we haven't got our booklists and things yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the rest of your holidays. If not before, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express. _

_Looking forward to seeing you,_

_Harry_

It had grown very dark while Harry had been writing, and he realised that the party outside was over, with just a few people clearing up by wand-light. Cursing himself for not being there to say goodbye to people, he ran downstairs to help outside and nearly collided into Ginny.

"Oh! Er, sorry, Ginny."

Ginny gave Harry a look that almost flawed him. It was one of utter contempt and loathing. Then she whirled around and walked up the stairs in a very dignified sort of way. Harry could only stand watching her as she moved out of sight and then, feeling sick and ill, he wandered out into the garden. No longer wanting to help the tidying effort, he avoided everyone and proceeded to the small wood where he had gone that morning to open his letter from Hogwarts. Where Ginny had spoken to him, hugged him and cried with happiness at his achievement.

What had he done? How, in a few short hours, could she have changed so much? He sat back against the same tree as earlier and merely sat, watching the moon pass between clouds. Harry didn't think he had ever felt worse than this. Not even when Ron hadn't been talking to him, or when everyone had believed he was the heir of Slytherin, or last year when the entire magical world thought he was a deranged lunatic.

He didn't go back to the Burrow that night, but stayed awake, unable and unwilling to sleep, not knowing what Lord Voldemort would do to his mind in such a troubled state. Towards dawn, he got up and went to the small stream that ran through the wood a little way away, and washed the tears from his face.


	3. Chapter Three: Due North

Disclaimer: whoops. I totally forgot this for the first two chapters. Never mind, better late than never. Characters, places, various books, foodstuffs etc. are owned by JK Rowling and Warner bros. The plot's mine, but the only benefit to me is the pleasure of writing it. Thanks go to Ms Rowling for allowing FanFictions to exist, and for creating Harry Potter in the first place.

Friends and More

Chapter Three: Due North

It should, Harry reflected as he lay in bed a few days later, listening to Ron's snores fill the small room, have been the best birthday of his life. It hadn't been. Oh, everyone- nearly everyone- had smiled at him, wished him a Happy Birthday, and that had never happened before. There had been a large pile of cards waiting for him on the breakfast table, and he had opened them with his family around him, which had been another first. There had been presents.

The presents had been nice. All of them very thoughtful. Fred and George had obliged with a variety pack of their own name-brand practical jokes. Charlie had sent a dragon-hide waistcoat designed to keep the chill out when flying in cold weather. Bill gave him a magical watch that spun and whirred in his hand, telling him not only the time but also the date, the phase of the moon, the weather and, apparently, could tell him how long he had before homework was supposed to be handed in. Percy sent a beautiful slate grey quill, which Mrs Weasley told him was a falcon tail-feather. Hagrid obliged with an exquisite figurine of a Gryffindor lion, apparently carved from a hippogriff talon. The Weasley parents themselves gifted him with a cake, a book about dragons and, best of all, a hand for him for the spectacular clock in the Kitchen. He almost cried at this, but couldn't. The tears wouldn't come. He was dry.

Hermione and Ron had banded together and got him book of advanced defensive and offensive spells, which was truly intriguing: Harry could imagine that it would be very useful for a DA meeting, although there probably wouldn't be any more of them. Harry had been overwhelmed by such a show of generosity, and had thanked everyone profusely, but caught sight of Ginny staring determinedly away from him as he took everything upstairs. She hadn't spoken to him since the night of the party. Harry wasn't entirely sure he wanted her to, realising he was afraid of what she might say. He still had no idea what he had done, but he knew it must be unforgivable, since Ginny made a point of leaving the room whenever he entered it, except at meal times, and people were beginning to notice the tension rising all the time. He just wished that she didn't hate him. He could have survived indifference, had even expected it, but this was too much. She was killing him.

He lay unmoving, Ron's gentle snoring filling the room, and gazed at the ceiling. He felt angry, with himself rather than anything else. It was his fault, just like Sirius' death had been his fault; he had brought this on himself. He finally reached a conclusion: Ginny had somehow discovered how he felt, and had been so repulsed that she could no longer be near him. He sensed himself shrink inside, and suddenly he felt as though he was crowded by Dementors, as wave after wave of despair washed over him, without hope of reprieve. He screwed up his eyes and tried to sleep, to let go of his thoughts as normal, but tonight not even thoughts of Voldemort could distract him. He sighed and merely lay, waiting for the night to pass.

And then there was a tapping at the window. Harry swung quietly and quickly off the camp bed, instinctively grabbing his wand and moving in a half crouch towards the window. It could be a trap. Even if it was pitch dark outside, someone opening the window would be clearly visible from the garden. He crept towards the window, still bent almost double, until he was crouching with his back against the wall. Very slowly he reached up and eased the catch down. It was stiff from disuse, since Ron spent so little time at the Burrow, but went eventually, and the window swung open silently. For a second nothing happened. Then, with a rush of scarlet and gold plumage, Fawkes the Phoenix was inside the room, carrying a long, thin package. He dropped it and an envelope on Harry's bed and glided down to perch on the back of a chair, where he sat, blinking his great eyes at him. Harry stood up slowly, frowning slightly. Why would Fawkes come here? Obviously Dumbledore had a message for him. He gently stroked Fawkes' tail feathers, and the warmth in them cheered him slightly. Then he sat gently on the camp bed, for fear of it collapsing under him, and opened the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_A very happy birthday. I hope that your first away from Privet Drive has been enjoyable. I hope too that the Weasleys and Miss Granger are in good health: I'm sure I will see all of you very soon._

_However, I would not normally bother you with my ramblings; I have a few private messages, and thought this would be a good time to send them. Firstly, I would like you to consider continuing to run the Defence Association as an official school society. While Defence Against the Dark Arts could be expected to teach such skills as pupils might need for defending themselves, we must remember that there is a curriculum, and it is not completely at the teacher's discretion as to what they will teach. The DA can make sure students who wish to learn can have a thorough grounding in the fundamentals of combat magic, and I would very much appreciate your cooperation in this venture. It would remain student run, although some staff supervision would be essential._

_Secondly, I have decided to continue your lessons in Occlumency, but will be instructing you myself. I hope you understand just how critical this process is: if nothing else, I'm sure that it would greatly increase your own peace of mind to know that Voldemort could no longer invade your dreams. Therefore, I will expect you at my office each Saturday evening at seven o'clock. The password at the start of the term will be 'Sugar quill'._

_Finally, I send with this letter an item which I have always considered to be yours, ever since I first saw it, and have been, shall we say, keeping in trust for you. Strange, perhaps, since it was you who discovered it, but I feel that now you might appreciate it more. Who knows, you might even want to consider learning to use it, all things considered._

_Congratulations on your OWL results, and enjoy the rest of the summer._

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry frowned at the letter, which he read by the light coming in through the window. The thought of continuing the DA was complex. The need was no longer what it had once been, there was no more Umbridge deliberately quashing all attempts at defensive magic. On the other hand, after the events at the Ministry, people needed to be prepared for a Death Eater attack, and Harry agreed that DADA couldn't necessarily guarantee all the things people might need to know. He decided to discuss it with Ron and Hermione in the morning. As for Occlumency training, Harry would be very glad to resume the subject, and he hoped that Dumbledore approved of all the practice he had been doing over the holidays.

He dropped the letter and frowned again, this time at the package. He had a very good idea what it was, and if he was right it was essential that Ginny didn't see it. He unwrapped the parcel carefully and sure enough the bright, shining length of the sword of Godric Gryffindor gleamed at him from the wrapping. He picked it up reverently, lost in the large rubies set in the hilt. He remembered the feel of it from the events in the Chamber of Secrets. Back then he had been too frightened and worried to realise that it had been much too big for his twelve-year-old hand. Now, however, it fitted snugly into his grip, and when he raised it in front of him, the weight was curiously comforting. Harry knew what Dumbledore was doing, sending him this. They both knew that Harry was going to have to fight Voldemort, and equally they knew that the battle would in all likelihood not be fought totally with wands, since their wands shared common cores and could not be used against each other. Harry glanced at Fawkes affectionately, and the beautiful bird gazed back. Harry wasn't entirely sure whether he was glad of the connection between the two wands or not, but it had saved his life just over a year ago and he was grateful for that.

Fawkes stretched his wings and looked pointedly at the window, which Harry had absentmindedly shut as he returned to the bed. Still grasping the sword, Harry walked over and opened it once more, feeling the cool night breeze soothing him. Fawkes alighted on the sill briefly to allow Harry to pet him again, and then he was gone, a flame diminishing against the dark sky and the shadowy treetops. Harry went back to the bed, leaving the window slightly open, and lay gazing at the silver blade with which he had killed the basilisk. Yes, it really wouldn't be good if Ginny knew about this.

"Come on Harry, it's time for lunch. Everyone will be waiting for us."

Harry looked around from the stand of magazines he had been pretending to examine in Flourish and Blotts while Ron and Hermione were, well, otherwise engaged in an alcove. He was, in all honesty, very pleased that his two best friends had finally made it official, but it didn't make it any less awkward when the three of them were out and about, and also, it made Harry insanely jealous of the kind of relationship they had. For the first time ever, Ron and Hermione were actually making his life more difficult, although he would never tell them that in a million years. He turned around gratefully, left the shop with the other two behind him, and together they ambled up Diagon Alley towards the Leaky Cauldron.

The day was very grey, as though autumn had decided to come early. Harry closed his eyes as he walked, inhaling the air and enjoying the feeling of the wind through his splayed fingers. He felt very glad to be out of the Burrow, and away from the awful tensions that had built there. He had sighed with relief two days ago when the Hogwarts owls had come, bringing with them booklists and instructions. And, for Harry, a small note telling him that he was now the Gryffindor Quidditch captain. He had been shocked at first, but as the information sank into his consciousness he realised that it made sense. After all, he had been on the team by far the longest time, now that Fred, George, Angelina, Katie and Alicia had all left. In fact, he was pretty sure that no one had been on a team for six years straight for over a century. On the other hand, it meant that he was going to have to supervise the recruitment of three new chasers, not to mention trying to bring Sloper and Kirk, the new beaters, up to scratch. With Quidditch, the DA, N.E.W.T.s, Occlumency practice and the training in swordplay he was planning, it looked like he was going to be very busy this year. Although, of course, that was fine by him. The less he had to think about things, the better.

The Leaky Cauldron was as dark and smoky as ever, and Harry was glad that the bustle of human traffic from Muggle London outside to Diagon Alley behind them meant that people were too busy to stop and stare, even if they did recognise him. He walked with his head bowed and his shoulders slightly slumped in an effort not to be noticed. Eventually the three of them reached the door through to the smaller, out-of-the-way dining room where Tom the innkeeper had set lunch for their party.

Mr Weasley was breathlessly excited, since that afternoon he and Harry were going to go shopping in Muggle London. Hermione had suggested a couple of books on sword combat from Flourish and Blotts, and they resided now in a shopping bag by his feet, but Harry knew that Muggles had rather greater expertise in this field, having happened to catch some of a series of documentaries on the subject at Privet Drive, and had therefore asked Mr Weasley if he could go out to one of the larger book shops and find what he was looking for: instruction books, particularly on western fencing and the martial arts of kendo and kenjitsu. The day after his birthday he had quietly told Ron, Hermione and Mr and Mrs Weasley about the sword he had been sent and his intention to learn how to use it properly. He had not, of course, told them about why in particular he wanted to learn fencing. He just said that Dumbledore had mentioned that it might be a good idea.

And so he had changed some of his Galleons, Sickles and Knuts to Muggle currency while at Gringott's, and now sat feeling rather nervous. He had realised, of course, that he would be very vulnerable in Muggle London, and had been very glad when Mr Weasley had said that he would accompany him, just in case they were attacked. Mrs Weasley had seemed rather reluctant about the whole affair, but she respected Harry's wishes and remained silent, knowing how much of a treat it would be for her obsessed husband.

They had just sat down and started eating a delicious Toad-in-the-Hole when the door opened and three people came in. Harry glanced over, and saw Cho Chang and two people who must be her parents sitting down at a table across the room. Harry looked at Cho. She was just as pretty as ever, but she would never now be as beautiful in his eyes as Ginny. He remembered how they had left things. They had had an argument over Marietta, Cho's friend, betraying the DA to Umbridge, and hadn't spoken since. Thinking back, Harry realised that he probably had been too harsh on the girl, and suddenly resolved to ask Cho for a word to clear the air between them. After all, if the DA was continuing officially it would be good to have Cho and, yes, Marietta there as well. And Harry wanted to be friends with Cho, even if neither of them wanted to be anything more. Mumbling something to his companions he stood up and crossed over the room.

She looked up as he arrived and gave a brief, rather forced-looking smile. "Oh… hi Harry. How are you? Are you having a good summer?"

Harry felt rather awkward in the presence of not only the girl he had fancied for three years but also her parents. He couldn't quite meet her eye, and suggested rather uncertainly that he was having a wonderful summer, and hoped that she was as well.

"This is my Mum and Dad, Harry. This is Harry Potter." Harry looked into the two faces, smiling broadly at him.

"Hello. It's very nice to meet you." He reached down and shook hands with both, then, summoning up all the vaunted and apparently mythical Gryffindor courage he possessed, looked back at Cho. "I was wondering if I could have a quick word with you. I won't be long, and I'm sorry for interrupting your meal." His voice sounded strange to him: almost as if Percy was using his mouth. Cho raised her eyebrows slightly in surprise, but then stood, glancing at her parents, and she and Harry sidled out of the door.

Once they were out of sight of the dining room, Harry leant against the wall, looked at Cho, took a deep breath and spoke.

"Look, I wanted to apologise for… well for pretty much everything last year. I was a total prat, a lot of the time, and I'm amazed you put up with me for so long. And I'm sorry I was so mean to Marietta as well. I want to say sorry to her, if I see her. I don't know what kind of pressure she was under, I shouldn't have judged her." Harry fell silent, feeling his face reddening and wishing that he hadn't rambled like that. He risked a glance up at Cho and was surprised to see a sad little smile flickering across her face.

"Harry, I should apologise too. I gave you a really hard time, and you put up with me. And I learnt more defence stuff last year than ever before. I… I really hope we can still be friends."

Harry felt relieved. She had managed to come to the same conclusion as him, and neither had mentioned their disastrous attempt at a relationship. He grasped on to her final word with enthusiasm. "Yeah, friends would be great," he replied smiling. "Also, Dumbledore asked me if I would carry on with the DA. It would be great if you could keep coming."

Cho beamed. "Of course I will! I'd love to. And I'll talk to Marietta, if you like. I know she wants to apologise to everyone, and you in particular."

Harry was quite happy as he and Cho went back into the dining room and walked to their separate tables. Ron was watching Harry very shrewdly as he sat down, and Hermione leaned towards him. "Are you ok, Harry?"

Harry smiled at her. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just making sure everything's ok between us, checking we're still friends. She's coming back to the DA as well." Hermione smiled at him, looking almost proud. Harry blushed and looked away, catching sight of Ginny sitting next to her as he did so. He almost flinched at the angry glare she shot him before returning to her food. He sighed to himself. Now Cho was being friendly while Ginny was positively hostile. What had he done?

The platform was, of course, very crowded, but this year Harry realised that for the most part he was looking over the heads of others, rather than up at them. He gave a rueful chuckle and returned his attention to Mrs Weasley, who was handing him some sandwiches before the journey to Hogwarts began. He smiled as warmly as he could for her, returned her hug slightly awkwardly, and then clambered onto the train. This was going to be a very strange journey. Ron and Hermione were now senior prefects and had to at least start the journey in a particular coach. It had been similar last year, but last year Fred and George had still been around… and last year Ginny didn't mind being anywhere in close proximity to him. She made a point of entering the train some way up the platform, and Harry doubted that he'd see her again before the feast.

He sighed and wandered down the train past many full compartments, until he saw a familiar head of blonde hair, the features hidden behind the latest edition of the _Quibbler_. He smiled and sat down next to Luna, who looked up at him, smiled and gave him a very small hug. He was surprised, but hugged the younger girl back. It seemed slightly odd that they were now much closer than they had been at the end of last year, but it was nice to sit and talk with someone who understood better than most what he was going through.

Soon Neville Longbottom arrived, and the three of them passed the morning agreeably, talking about school, the two boys advising Luna on OWLs. Neville had managed to get Average grades in everything, except for a 'Poor' in Potions and, conspicuously, 'Outstanding' in Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry was pleased for the boy who had been so nervous during the exams: he had been convinced he would fail everything except Herbology, particularly Transfiguration. This year he was doing mostly the same classes as Harry, except he was taking Herbology and History of Magic instead of Potions and Transfiguration.

They deliberately avoided talking about the events at the Department of Mysteries by some unspoken agreement: it was all still too fresh and painful in their memories. Neville in particular looked different from what Harry remembered: the determination that Harry had seen develop last year was plainly present just behind the usual round-faced cheerfulness, his nose looked somehow clearer and more defined although slightly crooked, and Harry realised that the when it had broken at the end of the last year it hadn't been all that clean. He remembered with a shudder Neville's distress as he had tried in vain to yell jinxes and curses but had been unable to pronounce them through the blood pouring from his nostrils. He also casually showed them his new wand: Harry remembered him saying that his old one, which had been snapped by a Death Eater, had belonged to his father.

The snack trolley rattled past and Harry bought some pumpkin pasties for the three of them, and they were sat eating cheerfully when Cho appeared with Marietta in tow. Harry stood up at once and, seeing Cho's small smile, looked to Marietta, who was obviously having difficulty meeting his eye. He remembered the poor girl's humiliation at the meeting which resulted in Dumbledore's departure, and suddenly he realised just how hard the whole thing must have been on her… after all, she had had her memory modified during that confrontation, and had almost been stunned. Harry thought it might make things easier if he started.

"Hi, Marietta. Look, I've been meaning to apologise for the way I acted last term. I know it was hard on you, with your Mum pressurising you and everything… so I'm sorry for being harsh." He held out a hand and plastered what he hoped was a friendly but conciliatory smile on his face. Marietta looked up at him, rather startled, but then took his hand. While she shook it, she looked down again.

"It's me who should apologise. I ratted on all of you, and I knew that you were right about the defence… I gave into that stupid, malicious cow." Harry grinned and Cho chuckled slightly. "Cho says you're continuing with the DA… would you mind if I came back as well?" She sounded timid. Harry smiled broadly.

"Not only do I not mind, I'd really appreciate it. There'll probably be a lot more members this year, and I thought that I might be able to use members from last year as demonstrators… to show the new people how it's all done. Would you do that? And all you guys?" he asked, sweeping the compartment with his eyes to include Cho, Luna and Neville, who all smiled brightly and nodded. Cho and Marietta left a short while later, and Luna put down her magazine long enough to give Harry a piercing look.

"When did you get so tactful? Last year you wouldn't have done that."

Damn her for being so shrewd, Harry thought ruefully. "I… I realised over the summer how, er, unpleasant I was at times last year. I pretty much made everyone's lives miserable. I just… don't want that to happen again. Plus, practicing Occlumency makes you rather more sensitive to what others might be feeling, since you have to work so hard on controlling what you're feeling."

She smiled at him, apparently satisfied with his answer. And it was pretty much true, he told himself. Pretty much. The whole truth was that he didn't know what had come over him, considering just how angry he had been with Marietta last year. Maybe, he thought with a mental groan, it was another side effect of his feelings for Ginny: maybe he wanted life to be as easy as possible in all its other areas. He sat, lost in thought, gazing unseeing out of the window, while Luna watched him carefully.

The sky outside was darkening towards evening, and Harry was beginning to be slightly concerned. Even if Ron and Hermione weren't able to sit with them for the whole journey, he thought that they might at least have looked in on them. There was also something else vaguely worrying him. Every other year, on the way to Hogwarts, he had had an encounter with Draco Malfoy. Generally nothing more than a quick slanging match, but he wondered why the Slytherin wasn't there, tormenting him as usual. Murmuring something to Neville and Luna about finding the rest of the DA, he walked up the train towards the engine.

Strangely, the last carriage before the prefects', which was right behind the engine, seemed almost empty: in fact there was no one there at all, just some baggage in the overhead lockers. Harry felt a wave of apprehension creep over him, and as he stepped over the threshold he drew his wand from the pocket of his robes.

Ron and Hermione were lying just inside the door, out of sight of the companionway, obviously stunned. Harry quickly crouched down by them, cold and emotionless, as he checked them both for pulses and breathing. They both seemed fine, if unconscious. Knowing what he had to do, he started towards the next door, to get the prefects' help, but the door was locked. He waved his wand and murmured "_Alohamora._" The unlocking charm was completely ineffective, and now that he was close he could hear people inside, clammering to open the magically locked door. While his back was still turned, he heard a cold, sneering voice say,

"_Stupefy!_"

Harry's Quidditch reflexes kicked into overdrive. His shield charm was in place just fast enough to deflect Malfoy's curse, causing the gang of sixth and seventh year Slytherins bunched in the doorway to duck to avoid it. Harry used the opportunity to duck behind the cover of a nearby seat, sending an impediment jinx at Malfoy as he did so. Malfoy dodged clumsily, but the jinx hit a smaller boy whom Harry dimly remembered Hermione telling him was called Theodore Nott, blasting him backwards and sending people behind him sprawling. Harry ducked out for a moment and sent a stunner towards the doorway and Gregory Goyle froze in the act of trying to cast a spell, but then Malfoy's arrogant sneer filled the carriage.

"That's enough, Potter, unless you want the Weasel and the Mudblood here to suffer."

Harry froze. He had no doubt that Malfoy would do just as he threatened, and nothing, he realised, would ever compel him to cause Hermione and Ron pain, even if it meant surrendering to a slimy git like Malfoy. Harry placed his wand carefully where Malfoy could see it, then stood up with his hands raised, near enough to the wand to be able to step on it if Malfoy thought to use a summoning charm on it. Malfoy wore a horrible, triumphant expression on his face. "Oh, won't my father and all his friends be pleased!" he crowed. "You're finished, Potter. Soon you'll be back with the Dark Lord, and he has promised to let me watch him kill you. I look forward to it. Oh, yes."

Harry realised what Draco was going to do: he was raising his wand away from Ron and Hermione towards Harry, planning to bind him on the spot. Without even thinking what he was doing, Harry thrust out one hand and yelled, "_Stupefy!_" Red light erupted from his hand and caught Malfoy right in the chest. Harry immediately grabbed his wand and stood up again, ready to fight off the rest… but they were all unconscious, except for one boy Harry vaguely recognised as being the fifth Slytherin boy in his year. His mind ran through the names, trying to find this boy's… Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and…

"Hello," the boy said, grinning in a slightly rueful way at Harry. Harry realised that this boy resembled him in a number of ways. In fact, they were very similar, except for the few oddities of Harry's appearance: this boy had smooth hair where Harry's was wild, but it was no less dark. His eyes were green, but not so bright and piercing as Harry's, nor did he wear glasses. And there was, of course, no lightning shaped scar on this boy's forehead. He walked forward, putting his wand away and extending a hand. "I don't think we've actually ever spoken. My name's Blaise. Blaise Zabbini. I'm in a few of your classes."

Harry hesitated for a moment, his automatic distrust of Slytherins getting the better of him for an instant, but then he looked around at the stunned bodies, grinned broadly and shook the boy's hand. "I'm Harry, though I guess you realised. Er, thanks for your help," he added, gesturing to Malfoy's unconscious form. Blaise Zabbini suddenly looked serious.

"Yeah, well, I've always tried to remain neutral in the past when Malfoy was spouting his rubbish to you. Mostly I agree with you and Dumbledore and everyone about the important stuff, and I'm not one for believing in the purity of blood being of any importance: utterly illogical for one thing. The problem is that I share a room with Malfoy and the others. They can make my life a living hell, possibly more so than they've done for you in the past. But… the stakes are higher now, and I want to make sure I'm on the right team."

Harry felt pleasantly surprised. In the past he had always been sceptical about any Slytherins being decent, but Blaise seemed to be honest and sincere, and stealthily stunning most of the top end of his own house pretty much proved his loyalties as far as Harry was concerned. Harry smiled more broadly, and an idea hit him.

"Listen, I have a plan that should mean you can stay apparently neutral towards me, or even hostile, but still help me. Want to hear it?"

"Sure." Blaise looked very interested.

"Well, you could be a kind of spy for us inside Slytherin, and particularly with this lot," he said, giving Crabbe's bulk a small kick. "But you can pretend to be a spy for them by coming to meetings of the Defence Association- Dumbledore's Army. While you're there you can tell us what's going on. What do you think?"

Blaise had heard of the DA, and was very keen for this. Harry grinned, told him that the first meeting would probably be announced at the feast that night, and then set about awakening Ron and Hermione. They both seemed very angry about being stunned, but pleased to meet Blaise, once they got past Ron's initial suspicions. They talked quietly of their plans while Hermione opened the door to the prefects' carriage and explained what had happened to them.

"Look," Blaise said, once all the unconscious bodies had been hauled into the carriage, "if I'm going to do this I think I need to be locked up with this lot. What should I tell them when they come round?"

"Tell them the DA followed me and sneaked up behind them, they should believe that," Harry said thoughtfully. Blaise chuckled and nodded, then bid a cheery goodbye to Ron and Hermione, telling them he would see them around. Harry, Ron and Hermione walked back along the train, and spent the rest of the journey playing exploding snap with Neville, while Luna used a special lens to read a hidden spell in her magazine.

The sorting and the feast passed without incident, though it seemed to Harry to drag. Hermione and Ron were chatting quietly together, and the few mumbled words Harry did hear he soon wished he hadn't. He talked with Seamus for a while about the DA, persuading the Irish boy to join, but when Dean engaged Seamus in conversation Harry didn't feel able to join in. Neville was sitting a little way down the table with Ginny, Colin Creevy and a few other fifth years, and the only other people around were Parvati and Lavender, who were gossiping happily about their summers. Harry merely pushed his macaroni around his plate, not feeling very hungry. Eventually everyone had finished and Professor Dumbledore stood up.

"Right, now that we have all eaten, I think it is time to make our way towards bed," he said brightly, his eyes twinkling as usual behind the half-moon spectacles. Harry was only too pleased to join the crowd moving towards the doors, but then Dumbledore's voice rang out again. "Mr Potter, could you please meet me in the room behind the staff table?" Ron and Hermione looked at him in a puzzled sort of way. Harry shrugged, sighed and walked in the other direction, jostled by the crowd of people around him. Finally he reached the small door, and remembered the first time he had been in this room: it had been right after his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. He shivered, remembering that event. Dumbledore was sitting in a large chair, looking towards the fire and away from Harry, but turned to look at him as he came in.

Harry, remembering his less than positive thoughts towards the headmaster at the end of last year, decided that he needed to start some kind of reconciliation. He smiled as warmly as he could to the old man, sat on a nearby chair, and said gently, "Thanks for the letter on my birthday, Professor. I've thought a lot about what you wrote… and sent."

Dumbledore smiled at him. "You are very welcome. I thought it would be wise if I spoke to you immediately: first, I need to update you on the activities of Voldemort and the Death Eaters." Harry sat up straighter, looking alert. "For the most part they have been quiet. There have been a few attacks on muggle-born wizards, but never concerted efforts and there have been no fatalities: the culprits of all these skirmishes have been apprehended. None of them were senior Death Eaters, but every activist contained is one less to be used against us. I have to take the view that Voldemort's plans are even further delayed. They were first set back by you surviving his re-birth, and now the whole Wizarding world is aware of his return, far sooner than he wanted. Fudge's resignation also means that the Ministry is geared towards action at the moment. The governing council has put the aurors on high alert: there are always at least twenty ready to respond to an emergency. We are as prepared as we can be." Dumbledore shrugged and held out his hands. "I wish I knew more, but even Professor Snape has been unable to determine Voldemort's plans further. He will try, but in the mean time we must be patient." He smiled at Harry, and Harry felt as safe and secure as he ever had in Dumbledore's presence. "Is there anything you feel I should know before you go off to Gryffindor tower, Harry?"

Harry paused for a moment, then began. "There are several things, sir. First, I've been telling the old members of the DA that the club is continuing and expanding, and I'm asking them to help me manage it. Secondly, as you probably know, there was an attack earlier on the train." Dumbledore raised one concerned eyebrow. He obviously hadn't heard yet. "A group of older Slytherins, led by Draco Malfoy, attacked Ron and Hermione, and then me as well. I managed to fight them off with the help of Blaise Zabbini. I hadn't really spoken to him before, but he seems to be genuinely on our side, and he agreed to be a spy to the DA."

Dumbledore smiled jovially. "I am very glad that you find yourself able to trust Mr Zabbini. People do tend to get the wrong idea about Slytherins. As for Mr Malfoy, I daresay the prefects punished him and the others on the train, at least for locking their carriage… that much I had heard from the Head Boy. Well, anything else?"

"Yes sir. I've been practicing Occlumency over the summer, and I've also started teaching myself some swordplay, using magical and muggle forms. In all honesty I don't know how much good it will do, but I… enjoy it." Dumbledore smiled, somewhat mysteriously. "I don't know. It just feels kind of natural… almost like flying." It was true, Harry had found himself thinking it when he began to practice the fencing methods he had discovered. He could lose himself in the patterns and sequences and dances almost as much as he could while playing Quidditch, being so concentrated on the single task of finding and catching the snitch that all other thoughts left him. He had also found that his Occlumency training was easier after fencing: maybe it really did help to lose yourself a bit. Dumbledore was smiling very broadly.

"I am delighted Harry. When you come for Occlumency practice, we will start training in protecting you mind when Voldemort is actively trying to penetrate it. Now, if that is all, I think it is time for bed."

Harry rose and started to leave, but at the door he paused. "There was just one more thing, Professor. During the attack on the train, I… I managed to stun Malfoy without my wand. The spell kind of… came out of my hand. What was that all about?"

Dumbledore blinked and then smiled more broadly. "It is proof of something I have speculated over for a long time, Harry. You are capable of wandless magic, at least at certain times." He was silent for a while, the flickering flames reflected twice in his half-moon spectacles, and then returned abruptly to the present. "We'll talk about it more on Saturday evening, Harry. Goodnight now."

Harry left the office, wondering what it meant that he could do wandless magic, before his thoughts returned, as they always did, to the fiery redhead who hadn't spoken to him in weeks.

* * *

**AN: Sorry it's so long since I updated, but things have been kind of hectic. Next chapter soon!**


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